Divination of Seventh Year
by SometimesYouFeelLikeaKnut
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off on a mission to destroy the horcruxes and eventually Voldemort himself. Various POVs and a little RH and HG fluff. Please R&R! Chapter 7 is up!
1. Chapter 1: The Question

Disclaimer: The characters and back story are both J.K. Rowling's. I simply have an overactive imagination.

**Chapter One**

**The Question**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione took one last look at Hogwarts. Harry felt sad, angry, and strangely exhilarated all at the same time. He was finally going to go on the offensive and be well on the way to defeating Voldemort.

He also had a knot of fear in the pit of his stomach.

The trio didn't have their trunks with them, only knapsacks with essentials such as clean underthings, a self-refilling water bottle for each, and any personal items they didn't want to leave behind. Harry had his Invisiblity cloak and the photo album of his mum and dad that Hagrid had given him his first year, some chocolate and a map of Godrics Hollow.

He turned to his best mates and broke the silence that had been between them for the past several minutes, "Ready to see Number Four, Privet Drive?" he asked as though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Ron smiled mischievously, "Absolutely! My pockets are full of Canary Creams for your cousin Dudley," he said and punctuated his statement with a wriggle of his eyebrows. Both were firmly in place. Madam Pomfrey had fixed him with no problem after his incident at his Apparition exam. Harry laughed and Hermione pushed Ron on the arm and pretended to be upset, but her smile gave her away. The tips of Ron's ears had gone scarlet at her smile and touch, but Harry turned to walk toward Hogsmeade as if nothing had happened, though a knowing smile played at his lips.

They were going to take Floo powder to the Leaky Cauldron from the Three Broomsticks. The Imperius Curse had been removed from Rosmerta and she had been so grieved by what she had been made to do that she had decided to take some time to collect her thoughts. She left her sister, Eileen, to run the Three Broomsticks for her for a while. The trio would take Muggle transportation to the Dursleys'.

"I don't see why we don't just Apparate there," Ron asked. Hermione replied as if she had answered this question many times before, "Because, Ron, Harry doesn't have his license yet and neither do you for that matter." Ron opened his mouth to say something else, but Hermione held up her hand and said, "And we're not taking the Hogwarts' Express because…well…you know why…" and her voice trailed off and she dropped her hand. Harry knew why. Taking the school train would be way too normal. Nothing after Dumbledore's death had seemed normal. To take the edge off this thought, Harry piped in, "I hate Apparating anyway. It's uncomfortable. Also, I would sort of like some time to sort out what I'm going to say to my aunt."

Harry had come to the conclusion that his Aunt Petunia knew something that would be important to him. He wanted to get it out of her so he would never have to go back there again. He knew that the Dursleys would not be pleased to see him, especially accompanied by another wizard and a witch, but he planned to placate them with the news that this would be his last visit. He also hoped that that news would keep them from being too terribly horrible to Ron and Hermione. He had told his friends that they didn't have to come with him to the Dursleys, but they had insisted on it. _They really are the best mates anyone could ever ask for_, Harry thought.

A half hour later, Harry led Ron and Hermione to the Dursleys' house. It was mid-afternoon in June, but it was misty and strangely cold. None of them had quite grown used to this phenomenon caused by the Dementors. Neither of his friends were surprised that Harry rang the bell to the place he was supposed to be able to call home. He had never felt all that comfortable just walking into the Durleys' house.

"Who is it?" called a voice that still sent shivers down Harry's spine. Harry hesitated to answer; he almost wanted to just forget the protection and leave. It would only last until his birthday anyway, but Dumbledore had created that protection, so he answered. "It's me. Harry. Your nephew. I have a couple of friends with me. We'll only stay a night," he finished as Aunt Petunia opened the door. Harry had only wanted to stay just long enough to talk to his aunt and leave, but Hermione had thought that since he had to be able to call the place home for the spell to work, he should at least stay one night in his old bed. Harry had painfully agreed. He hated this place. He hated them.

"Well, I guess you're lucky that I'm feeling a bit lonely this week, Harry," snipped Petunia. "Vernon is away on business, he is such a clever man, and Dudley has gone to London early. That is where he will be attending university, at Vernon's alma mater, Base School for the Ordinary…" Harry tuned the rest of her speech out until she screeched, "Well, come in, come in! Before the neighbors notice me talking to you!" as if it were their fault that she had forgotten manners and left them on the stoop.

Harry could hear Ron whisper to Hermione, "Damn! His aunt doesn't look like the type to try something like a Canary Cream, especially if it's just lying around. I wanted to have a little fun with tubby Dudley." "Ron!" hissed Hermione, "Don't call him tubby! I'm sure he's just big boned!" Harry turned around and said, "No, actually he is quite large, and it's not his bones that's for sure." Ron turned to Hermione and quipped, "See!" and she muttered something a lot like, "Boys."

Harry was very glad they had insisted on coming with him, not only for this, but to find the horcruxes too. _And Godrics Hollow_. Harry pushed that thought away for now. Ron had seemed to take it upon himself to keep their spirits up with his jokes, though Harry knew it was mostly bravado. He was thankful for it anyway. Hermione had been trying to keep her bossiness under control, though she wasn't as bad anyway as she had been when they were younger. She had loosened up over the years.

Aunt Petunia led them into the sitting room and went into the kitchen to get the tea and biscuits. Harry thought this was rather unusually kind of her and then the clock chimed the time and he realized that it was tea time anyway. She was just being polite, which was still unusual. He guessed that she didn't find Hermione and Ron as threatening as she had Mr. Weasley or Dumbledore. She came back in and sat the tea tray down on the table and poured the tea. Harry noticed that his aunt looked skinnier than usual and her skin had turned to a light shade of gray. His aunt had never been beautiful by any means, but she had shared genes with his mum, so she hadn't been ugly either, just birdlike. Now she looked like a baby chick that had lost some feathers. Her clothes were wrinkled, which was surprising because she was usually so meticulous about ironing. Harry wondered what was troubling her.

"Harry, aren't you going to introduce me to your, erm…friends?" Petunia asked, hesitating on the word 'friends.' Harry supposed it was because she was so used to him not having any around her. "Oh, right. I forgot. Ron and Hermione, this is my Aunt Petunia, she was my mum's sister. Aunt Petunia, these are my best mates, Ron and Hermione. We went to school together," Harry said in a rush.

"Went?" Petunia asked as she narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean 'went to school?' I thought you had one more year." Harry looked away and mumbled, "Well, something came up." Petunia hadn't heard him clearly, "What did you say?"

"I said that something came up. I'm not even sure if the school is going to open next year. Even if it was, I wouldn't be going back. I have something more important to do and-" but Petunia had interrupted him. "More important to do? I've never approved of your kind, but I always figured you liked it there. I should have known that with the freaks you had as parents that you would drop out, whether you were a wizard or normal." Ron and Hermione exchanged surprised glances at each other at this remark. _They were probably surprised at the way she insulted my parents_, thought Harry. _I'm not. I am surprised that she called me a wizard, though. _She had always referred to what he was as 'one of them.' Harry realized she was still carrying on. "Listen, Petunia," he interrupted, "I have something I need to talk to you about. Or rather, to ask you. I've never asked anything of you and I never will again, but can we talk in private?" He hated to ask, but he had to know. He hadn't expected her to agree so quickly.

"Fine, fine. Let's go to the kitchen shall we?" she replied. She walked into the kitchen and Harry slowly followed her. They sat down and Harry hesitated a few times and began to tell her all that had happened that year and most of what had happened in the years before.

Ron looked around at the Muggle sitting room he was in. He looked at the sofa he was sitting on; he looked at the carpet, the wallpaper, the ceiling, and the many knickknacks that decorated the room, everything except Hermione. He hadn't been alone with her since he had held her at Dumbledore's funeral. Of course, they hadn't been alone then either, but everyone was so wrapped in their own grief that it had felt it. Ron's eyes landed on a picture on the mantel above the fireplace. It was of Dudley. Ron walked over, picked it up.

He was about to show Hermione the photo, but decided against it. He didn't really care how tubby Dudley was. Ron was miserable. He hadn't been as close to Dumbledore as Harry, but losing the headmaster had left a void in him. He had been keeping up a good front though. All of his humor and glib hadn't been forced, but most of it had, especially towards Harry. Harry had watched Dumbledore die. Ron tried to cheer him up the most, but sometimes it just wasn't in him. He didn't have to be that way with Hermione, so he put the picture back down. It was strange to him how it didn't move. _Muggles are so strange_, he thought.

"I wonder what he's telling her," said Hermione suddenly, and Ron was startled by her voice. They had both been silent since their whispered disagreement about Dudley's weight. Ron was glad she was the one to break the silence. He turned and looked at her. "I wonder too. What I really want to know is what he's going to ask her," replied Ron. He did wonder. He knew it had something to do with his parents, but that's about it.

"Me too," agreed Hermione as she wrung her hands in her lap. _She's been doing that a lot lately_. Ron worried about her. He both wanted her to accompany Harry and him and not to accompany them. They were getting into something more dangerous than they ever had before. Polyjuice Potion and werewolves and even Death Eaters were one thing. But, this was so purposeful. Before they had been thrown into those situations or gone into them planning to save a particular person, like Sirius at the Department of Mysteries. This was more like a mission than anything else they had ever done and it was more directly related to Voldemort than Ron cared to think about. Ron also thought that it had a lot to do with the fact that Dumbledore was no longer around to save them in the nick of time.

"Will you stop that?" asked Hermione anxiously. "You're making me nervous." Ron realized he had been pacing back and forth. "Right. Sorry about that. I guess I was nervous too." To keep himself from doing that again, Ron walked over and sat down again. He realized that he had sat down closer to her than he had before. Suddenly he was more nervous than he was earlier. _It's just Hermione,_ thought a voice in Ron's head. Another voice piped up, _Yeah, right! Just Hermione! She's only your best friend and incredibly adorable, even when she's wringing her hands like that._ Ron had known for some time how he felt about Hermione, and over the past year he was fairly certain how she felt about him. _Not that it matters. It doesn't feel right to be thinking about things like that when there is a war going on and we're in the thick of it. _

However, Ron couldn't help but think of things like that when Hermione stopped wringing her hands and he realized it was because she had grabbed one of his. Ron felt his whole face go hot and probably as red as his hair. Suddenly it didn't matter that they were in the thick of a war. Well, about to be anyway. All that suddenly didn't seem to matter in the Muggle environment they were in and with her holding his hand.

"Ron?" Hermione asked, making Ron jump a little.

"Yes, Hermione?" Ron asked in a voice that was higher and more nervous than his normal one. She didn't seem to notice. He couldn't believe she couldn't hear his heart pounding. He could barely hear her over it. "I was wondering. I've been thinking about my parents. About protecting them with a charm, the Fidelius Charm." Ron looked at her and blushed. She was looking up at him. He couldn't speak for a moment and then realized she had told him something important.

"Why?" he asked. "They're Muggles, would it even work on them?"

"I think so." She let go if his hand, he wanted to grab it back, but she bent down and retrieved something from her bag. To Ron's non-surprise, she pulled out a book. He read that it said, _Advanced N.E.W.T. Level Charms_ in sprawling gold letters across the front. "I've been studying it for the past few months and I think I can manage it. I just don't know who to make the Secret-Keeper."

"I'll do it," said Ron seriously. "I would never give away their location. Not even if I was tortured. They would have to kill me." Ron couldn't believe that those words just tumbled out of his mouth. He knew he meant them though. He would do anything for Hermione. She had gotten a horrified look on her face when he had said that. Ron was suddenly, irrationally, furious. "What's that look for? Don't you trust me?" he asked incredulous. He continued, "You're one of my best mates in the whole world, no you're more than that, you're…you're…Hermione," he finished stupidly, blushing with embarrassment and frustration.

Hermione opened her mouth and spoke quietly, "Of course I trust you. I know you meant every word you said and that scares me. You are too obvious a choice anyway. So are Harry and Ginny." Ron was relieved at her words and his back relaxed. He hadn't realized his entire stature had gone rigid with disbelief. _And hurt,_ if he was honest with himself. He seemed to have been more honest with himself lately, especially when it came to Hermione. He realized that if the situation was reversed, he wouldn't want her to be his Secret-Keeper either. He would want someone he trusted, but didn't know very well and no one would suspect. Someone like Luna Lovegood. There was an idea. "How about Luna? She's proven herself to us more than once. I have a feeling she would never tell." Hermione hesitated, "Well…," and she seemed to be thinking about it. Ron knew what she was probably thinking. She was thinking how she had never really trusted Luna's intelligence, neither had Ron, but she had proven to be a Gryffindor, even if she was a Ravenclaw.

"Why do you feel your parents need a Secret-Keeper anyway?" questioned Ron. "I mean do you really think that a Death Eater is going to target them to get to you or Harry?" _Or me._ She hesitated again, "Well…yes. It is definitely something that worries me." Suddenly Ron understood why: Draco Malfoy's face suddenly popped into his mind and he was calling Hermione a Mudblood. "Nevermind, I understand. You're worried about Malfoy." Hermione nodded. Both of them would never forget the outrage that they had felt when they found out that Draco had been the one to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and had almost killed Dumbledore. He may as well have by disarming him.

"Luna does seem like a good choice, doesn't she?" started Hermione. "I mean she's been so loyal to us and the fight. I mean, she and Neville were the only ones of the DA that still carried their coins around. That definitely counts for something. I just don't know if I want to burden her with that or if she would even want to take it on. I mean it would be like Seamus asking to do it. I _like_ him and all, but I don't really _know_ him, you know? But I suppose if he asked I would do it. I mean, he is a fellow Gryffindor and I would hope that he would know that he could trust me. Luna is as good as a Gryffindor, right?" Hermione finished in a rush.

Ron had stared at her as she rambled. It always amazed him how she could think the same things he thought, like Luna being like a Gryffindor. When she finished, he spoke, "I think she will do it. In fact, I'm almost positive she will do it. Who will ever suspect her? I can't think of anyone, can you?" "No I can't," Hermione replied, "After we've accompanied Harry to Godrics Hollow, we should go see Luna and discuss it with her and her father." Ron was about to agree, when something occurred to him, "But, we're supposed to begin our journey on finding the horcruxes after there, right? I mean, we can't both just abandon Harry."

Hermione got that look on her face when she knows she is right. For a second, Ron thought she was going to sprint off and tell him she had to go to the library before telling him anything. Then she said confidently, "I have a feeling that Harry will want to make one more stop before that."

Aunt Petunia looked even grayer and worn out after Harry had finished telling her most everything. He had told her about Quirrel, the diary, that Sirius had been innocent, Voldemort coming back, Sirius dying, and then about Dumbledore. He wanted her to understand why he had to ask her what he was going to ask. He wasn't sure why it would matter to her and if she would even answer him. For a brief moment she stared at him. No, not stared; she looked directly into his eyes. She had never done that before. It startled Harry. He realized he had another question to ask before he asked the big one.

"Petunia, why are you so…" Harry struggled for the right words. He didn't want to ruin his chances of getting a straight answer from her. He realized there was no polite way to ask. "Why are you so tired and gray looking?" Petunia stopped looking at him and jerked her gaze away. She said, "I don't know. I was fine until this blasted mist came back. I was so glad when it disappeared in the fall. It made me feel awful then too." She seemed to realize what she had said because her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth, just as she had when she had blurted that she knew what the Dementors are. He had been talking about how she looked, but she had used the word _feel._ Harry tried to remember how she had looked last summer, but then realized that he had barely spent anytime here at all, so maybe it hadn't taken effect yet, this mist of Dementor breeding. Harry guessed that they must only breed in the summer.

"How does the mist make you feel?" Harry couldn't believe he was asking his aunt such a personal question. He was surprised when she looked relieved that he had asked. "Well, it makes me feel sad and lonely and like I'll never be happy again. It's especially bad when I'm home alone and I don't have Veron or Duddykins to fuss over. Though, they don't make it much better. They don't like to hear me talk about how the mist makes me feel. I don't particularly like to either. I mean, imagine, a _mist_ making me feel like that! It's…not normal. But, neither are you and for some reason, the mist must have made me crazy also, I don't mind sharing with you."

Harry realized he had another question. "What exactly does it make you think of, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked in a more caring tone than he had ever spoken to his aunt before. She grew quiet and started fidgeting. Harry was afraid he had blown it and after several minutes of silence was about to give up and go back out to the sitting room, when-

"Lily. It makes me think of my last conversation with Lily." Petunia said in a voice barely above a whisper. Then, to his horror and his amazement, she covered her eyes and her shoulders began shaking. She was crying. Not because Dudley had done something wonderful or Harry had done something awful. She was crying about his mother. Her sister whom she claimed to hate. Harry felt he could ask his question now and get a straight answer.

"Petunia, did you love my mother?" She looked up, her face red and wet and simply nodded. That's all Harry needed to know. He stood up stood behind her and did something he never thought he would do. He held his aunt to comfort her. Not to throttle her for treating him so bad, but to comfort her. Part of him thought he was crazy. She had never comforted him, save when he was a very small child and he hadn't shown any signs of being 'not normal' as one of the Dursleys would say. Because of this part of him, he wasn't surprised when she shook him off her when she had composed herself. But she had let him comfort her for a while and so the emotions of Petunia Dursley spilled into the kitchen.

"I-I-I last spoke with my sister a couple of days before James, and you and she went into hiding," Petunia warbled. "We spoke on the phone. She said that _they _were not monitoring telephones. I had no idea who _they_ were. She told me she loved me and she wanted me to know that if anything should happen to them. I thought, 'What could happen to them? They're wizards! I mean, I know what _should_ happen to them, I mean I am normal and all, but she had told me how wizards could live to be well over a hundred years old. I certainly wasn't going to live that long. Didn't see why she would be able to." She seemed to realize what she had said because next she said, "Not that she should have died so young. I'm just saying that because I despised raising you." Harry guessed that she was also jealous of not being able to live so long, but he didn't say so. He was sitting back in his chair now, in fact fully back in it as if blown back by a blast. The blast wasn't of hot air, though, as was usual with Petunia. She had loved his mum; s_till_ loved his mum from the looks of it. She had been quite an actress over the years, though not completely. "Usually when she told me she loved me, I just sighed and said I had to go do something important. This time was no different. I hung up on my sister who loved me. The next I heard of her, she was dead. I didn't get to tell her that I loved her."

Harry came to a decision, not for Petunia's sake, but for his mum's. She had loved her sister and she would want him to at least ask. "Petunia, I am leaving tomorrow to go to mum and dad's graves for the first time. W-w-would you like to go with me and tell mum you love her?" Harry thought that she might say yes, but then she said something astounding. "Yes. But I can't go out there, not into that mist. Also…I can't stand to be around you too long. You have her eyes and that hurts me to the core. Every time I have ever looked at your eyes for very long, and it hasn't been often, I've felt sick with grief and pain and anger. Not at you. Not at Lily, but at myself for loving…" Harry didn't need her to finish. She hated herself for loving him _because_ he was Lily's son, _just_ because he was different from her. Harry didn't think he could ever love her back. She obviously didn't love him that much. But he didn't hate her anymore. So, before leaving the room, he had to, it was suffocating him; Harry pulled out the map in his bag and some chocolate and scooted them across the table to her. "Eat that. It will make you feel better."


	2. Chapter 2: Release

Disclaimer: The characters and back story are both J.K. Rowling's. I simply have an overactive imagination.

**Chapter Two**

**Release **

Hermione woke up with a stiff neck. For a moment she forgot where she was and then she realized she was on the floor of the Dursleys' sitting room. Harry's aunt would not let her nor Ron sleep in her precious Dudley's room. Nor would she allow them to sleep on her precious sofa. They could sit on it as long as they didn't move too much, but his aunt suspected that they were restless sleepers and didn't want her couch made lumpy somehow. Hermione thought she was crazy. _And quite rude_. _But, then again the sleeping arrangements could have been much worse_, thought Hermione as she looked over at a still sleeping Ron. He even looked cute with his mouth agape like that. _And he's snoring._ Hermione suppressed a giggle.

Harry had not known that she would have to sleep on the floor before he had gone straight from the kitchen to his old room after his conversation with his aunt. He had never come down. She suspected once he found out, he would feel horrible. _He's always blaming himself for things he can't control._ _Like Dumbledore's death_, she thought tearfully. It was still quite fresh. She had never lost someone she had cared about so much, not like that. She was used to great aunts and uncles and grandparents dying of natural causes. She was not used to the greatest wizard in the world being killed. Especially not killed by someone he had so adamantly trusted.

She shook these thoughts off though and thought of more pleasant things. She had to do that a lot lately, just to stay sane. Most of the time she thought about Ron and this morning was no exception. Her heart thudded as she thought of the night before and a hot blush crept up her neck, threatening to take over her face. Last night had been so simple and wonderful and natural. _Not that we did anything that should have been complicated_! Hermione's conscious piped up. She even objected to herself. She sighed and lay back down into Ron's stretched out arm and faced him to watch him sleep.

He had held her all night. He claimed that it was because she seemed to be really upset about having to sleep on the floor. She let him pretend. She knew the real reason, now. They had had another row the night before. _A row that I started_, she thought as she absentmindedly played with Ron's longish hair. He stirred slightly, but didn't wake. She wasn't brave enough to do this when he was awake. Oh well, the row had been good for them. It was a short one. After Harry hurried past the sitting room and up the stairs without a word to them, Hermione waited for Ron to make a joke of some sort. With no idea of what he would say, but fully expecting it to make her laugh and feel less apprehensive, she had turned to look at him. He was staring at the stairs where Harry had disappeared, his brow furrowed in concern. She expected to him at least run after Harry with some Canary Creams, maybe even eat one and burst into feathers and molt within seconds, just to make Harry and her laugh. Instead, he sighed, leaned back fully on the sofa, still staring at the stairway and said simply, "I guess he's done for the night." It may have been somewhat funny, if he had said it with the usual Weasley sarcasm, but he said it seriously. Suddenly she was angry.

"What! Aren't you going to make some comment that will have us both in heaps! You never seem to joke around me anymore. I guess since Harry is upstairs and obviously done for the evening, you think no one else needs cheering up!" It was true, he hadn't wisecracked with her, just her, in a while. She turned to him, fully expecting his mouth to be screwing up in retaliation. She thought if she could get him angry, he'd eventually say something ridiculous to make her laugh. She was surprised, therefore, when she saw his mouth doing no such thing. Instead he opened and shut it a couple of times as he stared at her and then he relaxed dejectedly on the couch and just sat there looking down at his hands.

She wasn't going to let him off so easy. She wanted to laugh, she _needed_ to laugh. Just before Harry had rushed past, they had been talking about protecting her parents, just in case. Malfoy hated her; there was no telling what he would do. The thought of anything happening to them made her sick. Ron had been so serious the entire time. She thought that the connection she thought they had had the past year was all in her mind. He didn't want to make her laugh. This thought made her terrified, "I mean I thought we were best mates too! I thought by now you would be over the fact that I'm a girl!" she had had no idea what she was prattling on about and no idea how long she did it. She couldn't even remember all that she had said. "I mean, I thought we had something special and not just because we're best mates, but because I ca-" she caught herself short. She had been about to tell him that she cared about him as more than a best mate, but he obviously didn't want to hear it because he was bent over now with his head in his hands. He wouldn't even look at her. He hardly had the whole night. She silently cursed her bushy hair. He hadn't looked at her much all evening.

Hermione knew she should be concerned about bigger things than Ron looking at her, and she _was_, it's just at that moment it was all she could think about. She was about to go into another tirade when he spoke, "I'm just so tired." Hermione was a smart girl, but it took her a moment to realize that he meant something other than being tired and wanting to go to sleep. He had begun again, "I'm just so tired of always having to be one of the ones to fight. Though I'm ready to do it, I'm so exhausted just thinking about what we have ahead of us. I want to be able to just be normal. Listen to me, I sound like Harry," and he briefly had an amused look on his face. "I guess I know exactly how he always feels, at least a little. I mean I would do anything for him and I'm not blaming him for being a target. He can't help it. I just wish we could all just have a normal time together." He raised his head and turned it slightly to look at her, "Do you know what I mean?"

Hermione had known exactly what he meant. But she was still a little confused, "Why have you been joking all the time then? I mean, at least when Harry is around?" she asked nervously, afraid he was going to say that being around her drained him or something as equally horrible. She was pleasantly surprised when he said, "Because, well…in some ways I'm closer to you than I am to Harry. At least when it comes to this kind of stuff. Boys don't talk things out. They joke around. I don't feel I have to do that around you…because...," he looked away in embarrassment as if he was about to share too much, "…because I feel like I can be myself around you, especially lately. I feel like I don't have to put up a front for you because you just accept it. You just accept me."

And then an amazing thing had happened, Ron turned his head and wiped away a tear. He didn't cry much more than that, but the fact that he didn't try to write it off as something in his eye or something else, combined with what he had just said, made Hermione forgive him immediately. So, instead she had simply reached out and taken his hand, this time to comfort him instead of reaching out for comfort herself. His body relaxed again and he put his head on her shoulder and let her caress his hair like he had done for her at the funeral. The moment was ruined, however when Harry's aunt had walked into the parlor and they broke apart immediately. She then told them of the sleeping arrangements and how they would have to sleep on the floor. Hermione had told Ron that he should go up and sleep in Harry's room and keep him company. She would stay down there. He had said, "No. He probably wants to be alone. If he hadn't, he would have come in here with us earlier." She realized he was right. Then she realized she was tired. None of them had slept much the night before, Ron stifled a yawn.

Mrs. Dursley reentered the room with blankets and pillows for them. _At least she is somewhat thoughtful_, Hermione had thought as she and Ron arranged their makeshift bed. She had blushed at the thought: _bed_, _her and Ron's bed_. Suddenly she panicked. Petunia had only given them one blanket. She had said, "Well I don't want to have to burn more than one, now do I?" Ron had jumped out of his melancholy at those words to jump off the sofa and make towards her. Petunia already had her back turned though, and Hermione held him back. Ron seemed to have a little bit of his regular self back at this point, and made a crude remark about sharing the blanket, raising one eyebrow. "Ron!" Hermione had exclaimed. She knew he was joking of course, but she blushed anyway.

They both had become quiet then. Hermione had looked up at him and realized he was blushing too and looking down at their 'bed'. "So!" he began, "I guess you can have the blanket. I don't need it. It is June after all." But Hermione had known that that meant nothing. The nights had been colder than usual and he would freeze without a blanket. So she had put away her nerves and said, "No, we'll share. You'll freeze without a blanket. I would create a portable fire, but his aunt might have a coronary if she saw." He smiled at this, "That's not a bad idea," and then he looked as if he was waiting for her to scold him, but instead she had dissolved into giggles. Her Ron was back, for now. She had lain down first and her heart had pounded as she waited for him to get under the blanket beside her. It was big enough so they didn't have to be right up against each other. Hermione had wished it hadn't been. They both had lain there looking at the ceiling, when they both spoke at once.

He had said, "We should probably sleep closer, you seem to be really upset about sleeping on the floor and...," just as Hermione had said, "If we sleep closer we'll produce more heat-" she cut herself off at what she had just said and he trailed off. They both blushed as they rearranged themselves. She nestled her head into his shoulder. She thought she heard him gulp when she had done this and had smiled. She had an arm draped over his middle. Then he had done the sweetest thing; he kissed her on the forehead and said sleepily, "Goodnight, Hermione." She was barely able to whisper, "Night, Ron."

_What's that?_ Hermione's eyes opened and she saw that Ron looked away quickly. _I must have fallen back asleep. I hope he doesn't know I dreamt about last night._ Then she realized he had been watching her for who knows how long. The thought made her smile and something in her stomach do a flip. "Where's Harry? Is he up yet?" she asked as she yawned and stretched. Ron watched her stretch out of the corner of his eye. She was too out of it to say anything about that. "I think I heard him walking around upstairs. He should be down soon." It didn't sound quite truthful to Hermione, but she figured it was because she was not quite awake so she replied, "Okay. What are we doing for breakfast?" Ron shrugged. The thought occurred to Hermione that she will probably be sleeping close to Ron for a while yet to come. I mean, they wouldn't exactly be going places where they could go to an inn or something. The thought didn't bother her. "Well, we really should be going soon. I don't think Harry wants to stay here much longer either."

Harry woke up with a feeling that something wasn't quite right and then everything that had happened in the past few days came back to him and suddenly he was exhausted again. He felt bad that he hadn't said anything to Ron and Hermione after he talked to his aunt. He had just felt like being alone. He was glad, for the most part, that they had taken the hint and not come after him. He was scared about what they were going to do today. They were going to take the Knight Bus to Godrics Hollow. He had memorized the map and knew exactly where the cemetery lay. Professor McGonagall had magically drawn the map for him the day of Dumbledore's funeral. Harry felt the void that the headmaster's absence left in him, but he also felt something else. He had ever since the funeral. He couldn't name it. He didn't talk to Ron and Hermione about that feeling yet. He wouldn't until he knew why he felt it. _It's almost like…no that's impossible._

Harry decided he should go downstairs to let Ron and Hermione know that he was up. He figured Hermione would be on the sofa and Ron on the floor. He knew his aunt wouldn't let anyone sleep in Dudley's room, but their discussion last night made him think that Hermione would be able to sleep on the sofa. He was surprised when he peeked into the sitting room and saw that they were both on the floor. Ron was awake and looking at Hermione. She seemed to still be asleep. _They're awfully close together_, thought Harry. He wasn't surprised, in fact he thought it was about time they started to really sort things out. He remembered what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had told him about hasty weddings last year. He caught Ron's eyes and motioned that he would be upstairs for a bit and then headed that way. Ron nodded understanding and looked back at Hermione.

As he headed upstairs, he realized that he should at least tell his aunt that they were leaving. He figured she was still in her room since Ron and Hermione had been cozy. He was pretty sure she would have broken that up immediately. He stopped in front if his aunt and uncle's room. He had not been in the room since he was a toddler and didn't know any better. He knocked softly. There was no answer, so he knocked a little louder. Still no answer. He decided to peek in, figuring she was still asleep. He was wrong. She was sitting at her vanity, staring at her reflection with a hairbrush in her hand poised to begin brushing. He cleared his throat, "Aunt Petunia?" Quite startled by his voice, her brush leaped out of her hand and she fumbled to catch it. "What do you want!" she screeched. Apparently she was making up for their conversation the night before.

"I just wanted to let you know that the three of us will be leaving soon. I thought you should know," Harry said and turned to go to his room and get his bag. He paused, "Is it okay if we grab some toast before we leave?" She opened her mouth as if to protest and then remembered their destination and nodded. "But be quick about it!" she exclaimed before going back to staring at her reflection. Harry left the room and closed the door softly.

It was mid-morning and the sun filled his room brightly. He took one last look at the room that had been his prison for five summers. _It was a good deal better than the cupboard_, thought Harry logically. He grabbed his bag, turned, and closed the door determinedly behind him. He heard moving about downstairs, so he figured it was safe. He looked into the sitting room and noticed that the blanket (which was folded neatly) and pillows were piled on the sofa. Ron was next to them, "I told Hermione we should just leave them on the floor. She's going to burn them anyway! But, she said that just because your aunt's rude, doesn't mean she has to be. I told her she's mental."

"Where is Hermione?" Harry asked as he motioned Ron to follow him into the kitchen.

"In the loo. She's been in there a while. She's such a girl sometimes. It's rather shocking," Ron said with both eyebrows raised in shock. "I'm starving," he continued and asked Harry to hand him the bread. He would toast it quickly with his wand. "I'm of age now!" he said gleefully. Harry opened the refrigerator to get out the butter and jam.

"Morning, Harry!" Hermione greeted as she entered the kitchen. "Ron! You're using magic!" Ron was on the last piece of bread; he had toasted two for each of them. He rolled his eyes. "I'm of age, remember Hermione? So are you," he finished toasting the last piece with a flourish as if to prove his point. Hermione looked disappointed that she couldn't scold him anymore with the reason he had given her. Harry had poured them all milk. He had to do it the Muggle way. _Strange that I care about following the rules when I'm not going back to school. Guess I'm just used to following them._ He shrugged at his thought. Ron and Hermione were staring at him, as if waiting to be told what had happened last night. So, they all sat at the table and Harry recounted his conversation with Petunia to them.

When he finished, Ron's chin seemed to be magnetically attracted to his feet and Hermione had a pleased look on her face. "Hmph. Now aren't you glad that I decided to be polite about the blanket and pillows, Ron?" she said triumphantly. Then she said, "That's really amazing, Harry, and so sad at the same time. I'm glad that you asked her that question. It was one question that was on my list of what you may ask her. And the thing with the mist makes perfect sense."

"It does?" said Ron and Harry at the same time.

"Yes, it does. See, Petunia never really grieved her sister, did she? I mean she probably felt she couldn't around her husband from what you said of what he thinks of her when she talks about the mist. So, it makes since that something as slight as the Dementors' breeding mist would have the same effect on her as an actual Dementor."

Just then they heard movement upstairs. Harry decided it was time to go. He didn't want to overstay his 'welcome'. "We should get going. We'll catch the bus a couple of blocks down from here where I caught it last time. It feels odd catching it right in front of the house."

The three of them left the house and walked to the spot where Harry had inadvertently summoned the Knight Bus the summer before his third year. _That feels ages ago. _Harry remembered what had made him draw his wand that had summoned the bus that night. He had seen a big, black dog in the shadows staring at him. The dog had turned out to be Sirius Black, his godfather, though he had to go through a lot trouble to find that out and had to say goodbye to Sirius rather quickly. Sirius had been accused of a crime that he had been innocent of. Harry pushed away the thoughts of his godfather being hit with a curse and falling through a mysterious veil in his fifth year. Harry held out his wand and then suddenly there was a purple, triple-decker bus in front of them, honking its horns. With a glance back to his friends, Harry boarded the bus. Hermione and Ron followed.

Stanley Shunpike was not there to greet them. He was still being held in Azkaban on false charges. Harry noticed that they were the only ones aboard the bus, other than Ernie the driver. "Godrics Hollow," Harry said to the driver and led his friends half way back the bus. The trip was silent, yet very loud to Harry. Thoughts ricocheted through his mind about what he was about to see: where his parents lay dead and buried. _They died because of me. Because of that bloody prophecy. I could kill Snape, I could kill Trelawney, and I could kill Wormtail. Mostly, I wish I was never born. I wish Tom Riddle were never born. I wish my parents were still alive and I wish Dumbledore still was too. I just want to be normal. _

"Godrics Hollow!" hollered Ernie the driver.

"Well, here we go," said Harry apprehensively. He had a feeling he was going to cry in the cemetery. He suddenly wished Ron and Hermione were not there. Maybe they would stay back from him and just let him be. He hoped so.

Harry got his wish. The trio walked through the town, Harry in the lead, towards the cemetery where his parents rested. They found it with minimal problems, but it took longer to find the actual graves. Once they did, Ron and Hermione sat beneath a tree about ten feet away, leaning against the trunk and Harry approached marker. He knelt so he could read what it said.

Here lie Lily and James Potter

Lily Potter

1960-1981

Beloved Wife, Mother, and Friend

James Potter

1960-1981

Beloved Husband, Father, and Friend

Harry didn't know what he expected it to say. Maybe the way they had died and why and who had done it. He didn't know. It just seemed so ordinary. He expected it to be bigger. He expected a tomb in their honor, not an ordinary grave marker with the same mundane things engraved on it as if they _had_ died in a car crash. _"How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage!" _rang Hagrid's words of seven years ago. Harry thought as if responding to Hagrid, _Yeah, so is the way they actually died. I much would have preferred the car crash if they _had _to die._

Harry shifted from his knees to sitting cross-legged six feet above his parents. He suddenly wished for his Invisibility cloak, but he had left it with Ron and Hermione and did _not_ want to walk over there just now. He could feel their eyes watching his back.

_Why did you have to die? _"Why?" he whispered. "I wish I could see you and talk to you. I guess this will have to do. I've talked to you before, in my mind. I feel like you can actually hear me there. Do you remember the Mirror of Erised? Of course you don't, it was just in my imagination. I saw you there, though. And my grandparents and great-grandparents and all that. I wish it had been real. I don't want you to think that I'm a whiner or anything. I just keep telling you what I wish. I should tell you what has been going on. Dumbledore is dead. Snape killed him; you should have just let Moony get him that night, Dad. He's a waste of air. But, I guess you didn't know."By now tears were filling Harry's eyes, threatening to escape.

"Mum? Aunt Petunia might come and see you sometime… I mean visit you… I mean…come here. I'll let her tell you what she has to say. I guess I didn't really have to tell you that Dumbledore is gone. Hopefully you've seen him up there. Sirius too."The tears were no longer threatening, but falling freely. _I keep hoping that one of them will come back. Sirius fell through this veil thing at the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry. No one knows what that means. If Dumbledore knew, he didn't tell me and how am I supposed to talk to him now? Wait…_

"Harry! D-D-Dementor!" stammered Ron pointed ahead of Harry who quickly jerked his head up. A cold creeping chill came over him. He raised his wand, "Expecto patronum," he said, but he couldn't think of anything happy now. He tried again, tried thinking about Ginny, but then he glimpsed the words "Here lie Lily and James Potter" and all he could muster was a faint mist. Suddenly he heard behind him, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" and a silver otter bounded its way towards the Dementor, but the Dementor stayed. _What the-?_

Hermione yelled, "Let's all try to cast a Patronus at the same time! On three, think happy thoughts! ONE! TWO! THREE!" A stag, an otter, and a Jack Russell terrier raced toward the Dementor. It finally floated off. The stag, otter, and Jack Russell terrier disappeared.

Harry collapsed with relief at having taught the members of the DA the Patronus spell. Ron and Hermione hurried over, bringing his knapsack. They all retrieved chocolate from their respective bags and took a couple of bites. Harry realized something, "I didn't hear my parents. When a Dementor is that close, I usually hear my parents and Voldemort the night they died. I mean, I still felt sad and everything, obviously," and he gestured toward Hermione whose Patronus was the otter. "Why didn't one Patronus drive it off?" he asked as he put his chocolate back in his bag. It had a charm on it to keep it from melting. Hermione read too much, honestly.

"I think that since the Dementors now can kiss anyone they please that they are stronger. It apparently takes more than one Patronus to drive it off now. I would hate to face one alone," Hermione shivered as she finished this thought.

"We should get going before it changes its mind and decides to come back. Where are we going now anyway?" said Ron.

Harry replied, "I need to go to Hogwarts. I've got to talk to Dumbledore. With all that has happened I completely forgot about the portrait." Ron gave Hermione an admiring glance, "Blimey," he mouthed.

"You two don't have to come with me if you don't want to. I'll be okay," Harry said in a tone that implied that he rather they didn't. Hermione spoke, "We have something to do anyway. I figured you would want to go back there first," then she rose up her hand with index finger pointing skyward, "We _will_, however, accompany you to Hogsmeade. Then we will go to the Leaky Cauldron, owl the Lovegoods, and if their reply is 'yes' then we will be there. When we finish there, we will owl you, Harry, and make plans to meet up. Don't go doing anything rash without us. I would much prefer if we met at Hogwarts or Hogsmeade. You know how I worry."

"Yes, ma'am," said Ron and Harry in unison. They were used to Hermione's habit of always have a plan. The trio stood up, brushed off their trousers and headed back to the neighborhood where the bus had dropped them off to hail it once again. It was mid-afternoon and they were all starving. They decided they would all grab something to eat at the Three Broomsticks before parting. "What are you going to ask the Lovegoods, Hermione?" asked Harry. This was the first he had heard of this. "I'm going to ask Luna to be a Secret-Keeper…for my parents," she said as if afraid of what memories the words "Secret-Keeper" would arise in Harry.

Harry paused for a moment and turned back to look at his parents' grave marker. Suddenly, he remembered something. He waved his wand and conjured a bouquet of white lilies, jogged over, and placed them on top of the marker, kissing it with his hand. "Bye, for now," he whispered and jogged back to join his friends and face his destiny.


	3. Chapter 3:Restless

A/N: Bill and Fleur's wedding is loosely modeled after the Jewish wedding ceremony. I'm not Jewish, but I've always thought that their wedding ceremony is magical; they seem to have the right idea about what marriage is all about.

Disclaimer: The characters and back story are all JK Rowling's. I simply have an overactive imagination.

**Chapter 3**

**Restless**

Ginny Weasley was restless. She was stuck at home helping her mother and Fleur get everything ready for the wedding. Other than Bill, she was the only Weasley child at home. Charlie was helping the Ministry, Percy was doing who-knows-what, Fred and George were in Diagon Alley at their shop, and Ron got to go with Harry and Hermione. She was not so much annoyed at her siblings, as at the fact that this left her spending most of her time with Phlegm. Fleur wasn't as bad as Ginny originally thought she was, but she still had her moments.

They had postponed the wedding a week. Molly wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Bill and Fleur didn't care when they got married, just as long as it happened. Ginny looked out her bedroom window at the back yard. Her father and Bill were decorating a chupah with their wands. Ginny understood it was supposed to represent the home that the couple would build together.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" said a voice, startling Ginny. She gasped, "What?" and turned around to see her mother standing in her doorway with a content smile on her face. "The chupah…isn't it beautiful?" restated Mrs. Weasley. Ginny smiled, "Absolutely."

Though she couldn't it see from her window, Ginny recalled all the detail that was worked into the wood. Bill and her father had carved the posts to look like ivy was etched into the wood itself. The chupah was about eight feet high and had an arched top that also had ivy carved into it. The posts that supported it were about six inches in diameter and had the same shape as ice cream does when pumped out of one of those Muggle machines. Right now, Mr. Weasley and Bill were busy decorating the chupah with white roses and real ivy.

Mrs. Weasley was standing directly behind her daughter now and began to speak as she looked wistfully at the structure her husband and son were attending to lovingly. "Arthur and I stood under a chupah when we married. He had read about it in some book about Muggles. Not all of them use one, but some do. I thought it was a lovely idea. I told Fleur about it and she thought that it was very romantic. I wish we still had the chupah that your father and I used, but it was destroyed during a rather terrifying storm that blew the shed apart shortly after Charlie was born." Mrs. Weasley sighed and began more cheerfully, "Well! I better go finish talking with Fleur about what to serve at the reception. She insists on having bouillabaisse. She's definitely going to have to explain that one to me." Noticing her daughter's slightly horrified expression at the mention of the French dish, Mrs. Weasley said calmly, "Don't fret, Ginny dear, there will also be chicken or steak or both, and plenty of side dishes." Ginny looked relieved.

"Thank goodness. I don't think I could eat that fish stew again, no matter the fancy name for it. I tried it in my third year and did not care for it at _all,"_ Ginny punctuated her statement with a shake of her head as if saying 'no way'.

"Neither does Bill dear," said Mrs. Weasley with a wink. "Molly?" called a voice from downstairs. "I'll be right there, Fleur. I was just chatting with Ginny." Ginny looked quizzically at her mother, "She calls you Molly now?" Mrs. Weasley shrugged and said, "Well, it felt weird for her to call me 'Mrs. Weasley' now that she will soon be my daughter-in-law and I'm not ready for her to call me 'Mum', so 'Molly' works just fine. I'll leave you to your thoughts for now, but I want you to head down soon and help." Mrs. Weasley patted her daughter on the head and left the room.

Ginny turned so she was looking at her father and brother again. After a few minutes, Bill must have felt someone watching him so he turned around and smiled and waved when he saw that it was his baby sister. Ginny smiled and waved back at her brother, hoping that her smile hadn't been a grimace instead. She hoped she got used to the scars on his face from what that beast had done to him. Thinking about Greyback made Ginny think about the night that Dumbledore died and the Death Eaters' attack on the school. All of these thoughts, of course, led her straight to Harry. She missed him so much, despite how reasonable their separation was.

She remembered Harry telling them all about Dumbledore and how Draco Malfoy had threatened the headmaster, but how Snape had been the one to do the horrible deed. A chill ran down her spine as she thought about how she had seen Snape almost everyday for five years, never liking him or fully trusting him, but trusting Dumbledore's faith in the supposed ex-Death Eater.

"Ginny! We could really use your help down here, sweetie!" called Mrs. Weasley. Ginny shook herself out of her thoughts and called back, "Coming, Mum!" As Ginny trudged down the stairs she thought of how she would see Harry at the wedding. She thought about seeing him again after a period time that seemed _very_ long to her and then maybe even dancing with him. As she thought of him, each of her steps became lighter than the last.

Draco Malfoy was furious. He and his mother were in Switzerland living as Muggles so as not to draw attention. It was Snape's idea. Draco would rather have had to face Voldemort than not be able to use magic. They were staying in a hotel in Zurich. He recalled when Snape told them what they would have to do.

_Draco arrived with a _CRACK _at Malfoy Manor. His mother pulled him to her in a fierce hug. He pushed her away, "Pack up, we have to leave immediately. Snape will be right behind me." He ran up to his room to begin packing necessities like underwear and hair gel. Narcissa was right behind him, "What happened, Draco dear?" _

_Draco took a deep, irritated breath, "I couldn't do it. Snape did it instead. Voldemort will be wanting a word, no two, and I really don't want to hear them." Just then, a resounding _CRACK_ could be heard coming from downstairs. "That must be Snape. I must thank him," said Narcissa. "Thank him for what? For ruining my chances of gaining some power and getting back at Potter for putting dad in Azkaban!" Narcissa didn't hear him; she was already on her way downstairs to meet Severus. Draco followed._

_"You must leave immediately. The Ministry and the Order will look here first," Snape handed Narcissa a slip of paper and some strange colored money, "This is the address of a hotel in Zurich, Switzerland and some Muggle money. It's British pounds, but I'm sure someone at the hotel can direct you where to exchange it for Switzerland's currency. Keep a low profile. This means no magic unless your life depends on it," he waved his wand, producing two hard plastic IDs and passports. "Here is some identification. You will need it to check into the hotel and to exchange the money. I must go to the Dark Lord now. He will not know that I know where you are. I can no longer be a spy. He will be furious, but I think that Dumbledore's demise will soften the blow considerably," he grimaced at these words. "I hope I never see you again," and Snape disappeared with a _CRACK.

_"Let's go, Draco. Look at this address, think on it really hard and hold on to my arm." Draco thought to himself, _24 Quartz Lane, 24 Quartz Lane, 24 Quartz Lane. _He felt the familiar, unpleasant feeling of being pressed from all sides and then he was standing on a street in front of tall, run-down building with a blinking sign: _Last Stop.

_They looked over their identification. Their new names were Julie and John Smith. They lived in Birmingham. Their birthdates were the same. They then studied the Muggle money. It was simple enough, there were numbers on it. Draco looked at the building and resigned himself to living like a Muggle for a while. He found himself rooting for Potter, as long as Potter didn't catch up with him. He looked to his mother, "Well, Julie, are you ready?" She sighed, "Do I have a choice?"_

It turned out there was a bank across the street from the hotel. It had been closed, though. The clerk at the hotel had allowed them to stay the first night even with the British money. They were not busy at all. They had been there for a week now and Draco was losing his mind. Once his mum had studied the Muggle money closely, she was able to replicate it. He knew they weren't supposed to use magic, but they had to eat and have shelter, right?

Draco formed a routine of waking up, showering, going to the hotel restaurant and watching people. Though he hated to admit it, he found Muggles fascinating. He had always ignored him, now they were his only entertainment. There were only about six other guests at the hotel. He only saw them in the morning and the evening. They looked to be tourists. He also watched the box with moving pictures. He didn't really understand what anyone was saying, but the bartender kept it on sports most of the time. Draco figured out football quickly. It wasn't as exciting as Quidditch, but it was better than staying in the room and being fussed over by his mum.

He found that when he lost his attitude, the bartender would sneak him a pint, so he built a rapport with the man. Draco never forgot the man was a Muggle, but he found he didn't care as long as the pints kept coming. One day while watching the telly, the man switched over to the news while tennis was on the sports channel. Suddenly Draco felt the man staring at him. "Wot?" The man pointed at the television. There, on the screen, was a picture of Draco. He guessed by the man's look of cautiousness that the word underneath the picture would be translated as WANTED by Interpol.

A/N: This one was harder to write than it seems. Sorry it's so short. There is more to come, but it will probably take awhile. I start classes next week.

Coming up: Harry speaks to Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione visit Luna, and Bill gets married.


	4. Chapter 4: You Can Never Go Home Again

**A/N: ** I know it has been forever since I posted anything, but I have been busy with classes. I mean I get home in the early evening, do homework, and by the time I'm done it's time to go to bed so I can get up at the butt crack of dawn and do it all over again. My creativity has been limited to so-so poetry and occasionally playing a song on the piano. It also didn't help that I suffered from a bit of writer's block. I actually deleted what I had of this chapter and went in an entirely new direction. I am procrastinating writing papers for school to finish this chapter which has taken me way too long to write.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of these characters, though I hope one day I can create characters and a universe just as cherished as these.

**Chapter 4**

**You Can Never Go Home Again**

Hermione and Ron arrived at the Lovegood house and rang the bell and waited. There was no answer. They rang again. Still no answer. Hermione noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Fearing the worse, but hoping for the best, they slowly entered the house. The house had been ransacked.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione croaked softly and sadly. "What happened here? Were they here when it happened?" her voice was becoming more and more hysterical with every word.

Ron pulled her close and hugged her. "I don't know," he whispered into her hair. He was terrified. "We should go to the Burrow. I bet my dad knows where they are and what happened here. If they were here when this happened, the Dark Mark would be over the house, right?" Hermione relaxed a little, "You're right," then her eyes opened wide in horror "Unless they took them somewhere for questioning or something. What if whoever did this intercepted my owl to her and has figured out what I was asking?"

Ron faltered, "I cannot deny that it is possible that they were taken, but I can say that it had nothing to do with you. They obviously came here for something that they knew about Luna or her dad before they even arrived here, 'Mione. Don't blame yourself like I know you are doing right now. Besides, your letter just mentioned us coming for a visit, you didn't even mention wanting to talk about something important. We should leave."

"We cannot go now, Ron! We need to check that they are not laying somewhere hurt, but unable to call out." Ron took the downstairs, Hermione the upstairs. The first room she came to looked like a guest room. There was no one in there. The next room was the loo. What she saw in the next room made her gasp. Books had been torn to pieces, the mattress and spring board were leaning up against the wall. There were also scorch marks on the walls, dresser, and window seat. _Luna must have been in here when they arrived._ It was definitely Luna's room. Hermione didn't find anyone and was about the leave the room, when she noticed something strange. The window seat was no longer that. Instead, it was a safe. Hermione called out for Ron. She shrunk the safe and made it feather light. She ran downstairs to Ron. "I think I found what they were looking for," she showed the miniaturized safe to him. "Let's Floo back to the Burrow from their fireplace. I want to try to open it there."

Ginny was nervous and excited and a little nauseous. Tomorrow Harry would be at the Burrow. It felt like she hadn't seen him in ages and not just a few days. How was she supposed to act around him? Their breakup had been mutual, for practical reasons, but it was still a little awkward. She couldn't kiss him anytime she felt like it or even just hold his hand. She had to stay in neutral territory or else it would be too confusing for both of them. _At least I have tonight and tomorrow morning to calm down enough so I can be neutral tomorrow. _She wondered if he was just as nervous about seeing her. _Probably not; I mean he has so much on his plate as it is._

The wedding was the day after tomorrow; Ron and Hermione would be arriving with Harry as well. The closer the day of the wedding got, the calmer Mrs. Weasley got. _I must be doing all the worrying for her_. _I mean, usually she would be a nerv—_Ginny's thoughts were interrupted by Hermione and then Ron falling out of the fire.

"What are you guys doing here?" exclaimed Ginny. "Where's Harry?" she asked as a sudden fear gripped her heart and stomach. Ron dusted himself off and replied, "At Hogwarts; he's perfectly safe. Don't worry. As for why we are here, we were just at the Lovegood's and well…" he hesitated telling his sister such frightening news about her friend, "it was ransacked and there was no trace of Luna or her father. We came here early to talk to dad. Where is he?"

Ginny didn't reply because she had not heard a word he said after hearing the words "no trace of Luna." She noticed her brother staring at her, "What?" she asked, truly confused. "Why are you staring at me? I'm not going to cry," she said just as a sob shuddered through her body as she tried to hold it back. Hermione put her hand on Ginny's back in an effort to soothe her. Ron knew he would not be able to get any information about their father's whereabouts from his sister, so he looked at the family clock. His father was still at work, but it was past time for him to be home.

Then someone fell out of the fire. Ginny did not expect to see who she saw there at all. "Harry! Are you okay? What happened at Hogwarts? You look terrible," exclaimed Hermione. "Thanks, I think," replied Harry before he flopped down onto a chair at the table. "My visit to Hogwarts did not exactly go as planned at all. In fact, it was a right disappointment if you want to know the truth." Ron sat down beside him, "What happened, mate? What did Dumbledore tell you?"

"What!" exclaimed and asked Ginny as she stood. "Dumbledore? Will someone please explain to me what is going on? First Ron and Hermione come here telling me the Lovegoods are missing and now Harry is talking to Dumbledore? Am I the only non-mental person in this house?" Ron looked at his sister, "Wow that was a right scary impression of Mum, Ginny. We told you all we know and now let's give Harry a chance to tell us what happened." He looked at Harry's face, "Or didn't happen."

"I'll start from when we three parted ways. You two might as well sit down too," Harry said as he gestured for the girls to sit down. Then he began his tale.

_Harry trudged up the path leading to Hogwarts, the only place he had ever been able to call home, besides the Burrow. His mind was filled with questions he was going to ask the late headmaster in his portrait. _I'll ask him where he thinks I can find the other horcruxes and why he had trusted Snape so implicitly. Then I'll tell him that I will make Snape pay. _Harry had reached the door to the castle. He didn't know whether to knock or just walk in on his own. He decided to walk in because in order to hear his knock someone would have to be in the front hall and there was no guarantee of that. _

_Harry had thought he would never come back here, at least not so soon after determining that he would not be returning for his seventh year. He ran up the stairs up to the seventh floor and came to a stop in front of the gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's office. He took a moment to catch his breath before trying out some old stand-by passwords on for size. "Lemon-drop," he said and nothing happened. He continued, "Peppermint stick! Sugar plum! Chocolate Frog! Canary Cream?" to no avail—the gargoyle was as still as, well, a statue. Then he realized: _This is McGonagall's office now, so think of something sensible for a password. _"Spectacles! Transfiguration!" _too obvious, he thought. _"Umm…" Harry's efforts were thwarted with a throat being cleared behind him._

"_Back so soon, Mr. Potter?" said the new headmaster as she smirked at her pupil. "Bumblebee," she said and the gargoyle jumped aside winding stairs started rising toward her office. "I was wondering when you would realize how you could possibly speak with Albus. I cannot make any guarantees, however. It is an unexplained mystery exactly how much information a portrait persona can remember about life. I must say that he keeps me highly entertained with quick jokes and complaints about never receiving a pair of socks as a gift in life. Just remember that the portrait is just a remnant of his personality and it may retain some memories, but not all. I've asked him plenty of questions about…well, you know what about. He hasn't been very open with me; he has seemed to be expecting you at any moment." _

_Harry heard only half of what she said. Before she had finished, they had reached the office and Harry had been taken aback by how different it was than it had been. Gone were the silver instruments that had decorated the room and also gone was Fawkes's perch and of course, Fawkes himself. In place of them were a massive amount of books upon books upon books. Harry imagined that if Hermione ever had an office like this, it would look exactly like McGonagall's. The only thing that was the same really, other than the desk and chair, were the Sorting Hat and Gryffindor's sword and the portraits of the former headmasters and headmistresses. Harry turned his atttention to one portrait in particular._

"_Ah, Harry! Good to see you son! I take it from the determined look in your eyes that you have some questions for me. Well, let me go ahead and answer them for you. I can't remember a thing."_

_Harry was in shock; partly because Dumbledore was speaking to him and partly because of what was being said. He sputtered, "What! Are you bloody kidding me! You mean, you can't tell me anything? Anything at all! This is insane!" Harry was in a right tirade now, though he did restrain himself from destroying the office as he had his fifth year. _

_Dumbledore simply smiled. "Ah, the passion of youth! Now, Harry I did not have _anything_ to tell you. In fact, I have something very important to tell you. I have some advice for you and something to think about. It is simply this: The right thing to do is usually the hardest also. That is my advice. Now, for a little fact that I am sure you are itching for. I want you to draw your own conclusion from what I am about to tell you. Trust Severus Snape, Harry." _

_Harry opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, McGonagall beat him to it. "Albus! Are you completely nutters! Snape murdered you in cold blood and you trusted him! And now you're telling Harry to do the same? The boy doesn't have a death wish!"_

_Harry finally spoke, "I could never trust that foul, wretched, dodgy, tosser. The next time I see him, he's dead and that's all I have to say in the matter." The old headmaster slunk down in his chair and got comfortable for a nap._

_"My trip here was a total waste of time. Sorry for taking up your time, Professor." _

_"You'll have to use a fireplace in Hogsmeade. All of the ones in Hogwarts are closed off to travel right now, for obvious reasons." Harry nodded in understanding and left the office, fighting the urge to slam the oak door. _

Harry finished his story and his friends all had different emotions playing on their faces. Ron looked furious, Ginny looked confused, and Hermione was deep in thought. She was the first to speak up, "Well, that was a waste of time."

"This might be worth our time," Hermione said as she pulled out the safe and enlarged it. "I found it in Luna's room, it had had a glamour on it so the Death Eaters missed it. It wore off when I was in her room. Lucky coincidence, I guess. I wonder how to open it."

It was not a normal safe; there was combination lock. In fact, there was no visible lock at all. "Maybe you open it with a password," suggested Ron. Hermione looked at him like he had just grown another head, "You're brilliant!" Ron blushed. "Now, what would Luna have as a password?" Hermione began trying different words and phrases, "The Quibbler." Nothing. "Radishes. Buttercaps. Crumpled Horned Snorack?" At the last phrase, the safe door opened. "Well, that was easy." Hermione reached into the safe to pull out whatever Luna felt was so important that it needed to be hidden in such an elaborate way. She pulled out a book and some notes that were written in a language that she did not recognize.


	5. Chapter 5: Blessings

**Disclaimer**: It all belongs to Jo; life's not fair; yada, yada, yada…

**Blessings**

Hermione reached into the safe to pull out whatever Luna felt was so important that it needed to be hidden in such an elaborate way. She pulled out a book and some notes that were written in a language that she did not recognize.

"Well, what does it say?" inquired Ron.

"I…I don't know," stammered Hermione, not quite believing it herself. Her disbelief was nothing compared to the other three's, especially Ron who said, "But you know everything!"

Hermione huffed, "Don't be ridiculous Ron. I don't know everything. The smartest people in the world know that they don't know everything. They do know, however, how to find information and that is what I intend to do." She looked at Ron, Harry, and Ginny as though daring them to contradict her.

Ron spoke, "Well, I always knew you were one of the smartest people—at least that I know of." Ginny mimed gagging and Harry grinned at Ginny, but Hermione blushed at this sentiment. "I have a book on rare languages, but it's at my parents' house. Ron, do you think you could accompany me there the day after tomorrow to retrieve it?" Her tone suggested that he better say "yes."

Ron's heart jumped a little at the look in her eyes. Then he realized that she probably wanted to do the Fidelius Charm while they were there too. So, he held back the perverted comment he was going to say and simply responded, "Of course."

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. Once Mrs. Weasley realized they had gotten there a day early, she went crazy with chores. The trio did not get a chance to talk alone. Fred and George stopped by for dinner and Mr. Weasley got home around the same time. He had no news on the Lovegoods. Hermione told him about the book and notes she had found. He did not recognize the language either. The book was called _Potions to Eliminate the Innate_. It seemed like Luna was trying to repress something within her.

Even though the wedding was not schedule to begin until 1 o'clock that afternoon, Mrs. Weasley roused everyone at sunrise (including a very disgruntled Ron) to help with last minute details.

"So, what exactly does a wizard wedding entail, Ron? Is it like a Muggle one?" asked Harry as they blundered down the stairs for breakfast and their assignments for the day.

"Well, I don't know if it's like a Muggle one or not, but from what I hear they are pretty cool. Bill and Fleur's wedding is going to be a cross between a wizarding one and a Muggle one. The breaking of glass comes in somewhere. The wizarding part of it is when they create the rings for each other with their wands at the altar. The vows are personally written by the bride and groom and each family member of theirs does a blessing charm over the couple. Then we eat cake. That's my favorite part of the whole idea."

Harry snickered and did not catch Ron's longing glance at the door to Ginny's room, where Hermione was laughing at something Ginny had said. _Harry would take the mickey out of me if I told him that although the actual ceremony doesn't thrill me, the actual marriage bit appeals to me a great deal. It also frightens me more than Aragog._

"Ron, you coming or are you going to stare at Ginny's door all morning?"

"Coming."

After eating breakfast, Harry and Ron set to work degnoming the garden. When they finished that, they helped the girls with last minute decorating. While they were doing this, guests began arriving. Mrs. Weasley had gone overboard with Bill's part of the invitations. In addition to all the Weasley siblings—all who showed, except Percy—she had invited every aunt, uncle, and cousin she could think of. She also invited every Hogwarts teacher she could think of. Professors McGonagall, Vector, Trelawney, Flitwick, Sinistra, Sprout, Slughorn, Hagrid, and Madam Hooch all arrived between 11 and 12. Of course, there were also Order members present: Moody, Tonks, Lupin, and Kingsley.

Ron was forced to mingle with his aunts and uncles, one of whom deemed it compulsory to call him Bilius and another who thought he was Percy. Ginny was able to get out of these humiliations rather quickly because she had to get ready. Finally, around noon, Ron's insistence that he needed to get ready seemed plausible. He escaped to the shower immediately. After his short shower, he took the longest time possible getting ready.

He found his tie to be impossible and was eternally grateful when Ginny offered to tie it for him after looking for him around 12:30. "Mom's looking for you. She's completely mad!" she said as she fixed his tie neatly. "Yeah, well, if my cheeks got pinched one more time I was going to hex someone," Ron replied.

Ginny finished his tie. "There. Hermione will swoon. You look smashing." "Really, you think so?" he squeaked. He cleared his throat in a manly way, "I mean, in this poncy suit?" He knew that Ginny pretty much already knew about his feelings for Hermione, but he certainly wasn't about to _talk_ about them. So he teased her instead. "You look good too. Trying to win back Harry with that look," as soon as he said it, he regretted it. "I'm sorry, Ginny," her face had fallen somewhere between sadness and being furious.

"I don't need to 'win him back.' I never lost him. I know that he'll come back to me as soon ass…" and she gestured her hand as if to express _he defeats Voldemort._

Ron understood, "I'm still sorry. I didn't mean it. You know how I always seem to say the wrong thing. My foot has a permanent residence in my mouth. Forgive me?"

Yeah, I'll just tell Hermione that you seemed excited that she'd think you looked good." She made to leave, but he grabbed her arm.

"You wouldn't!"

"No, I wouldn't. You should though—among other things." She slipped her arm into his. "Now, dear brother, we must go be there when our eldest brother marries Phlegm, in case he chokes." Ron chuckled all the way to the backyard. Then, his heart stopped. Hermione was talking to Harry; they were sitting on the groom's side. He could see her profile and she was absolutely luminous.

Her hair wasn't as bushy as normal, nor was it as sleek as it had been at the Yule Ball; it was down. She wore a periwinkle dress that fell just below the knee. It was sleeveless with an empire waist and a faux sash with a jeweled brooch at the center of its bow on the side. Ron was struck dumb.

"Ron!" exclaimed Ginny. Ron shook himself out of his stupor. "What?" She replied, "I've only said your name five times. She's lovely, isn't she?"

"She's more than that…she's…she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Ron's eyes bulged when he realized he had said that aloud, but he didn't take it back. Ginny knew.

"Why don't you go tell her that before the ceremony? I'll distract Harry for you."

Ron looked at Ginny as if she had just told him to juggle spiders while playing Quidditch, for it was equally as terrifying.

"Now, Ron!" Ginny whispered forcibly. She approached Harry, "Harry, I was wondering if you could help me seat the rest of the guests?" Harry looked perplexed, "It looks like everyone already--" Ginny interrupted him and drug him off by the arm. Ron heard him say, "Oh, I get it."

"Hi, Ron," "Hi, Hermione," they said at the same time with matching blushes.

"You look very handsome. Fanciful, even," she said, smirking.

"You too. I mean, you're not handsome. I mean, you look beautiful. You are beautiful…and fanciful." They grinned stupidly at each other, then Ron blurted, "Can I have the first dance with you today? In fact, all the dances with you?"

"Yes, of course, Ron," Hermione grinned even wider. The music—a string quartet—started up and the ceremony began. They both sat and watched, but all Ron was really aware of was Hermione's hand in her lap. He wanted to hold it, but could he just grab it? What was the proper way to do this?

Suddenly, the decision was taken out of his hands. She placed her hand on his, "Ron, shouldn't you be up there too?" He looked at her like she was mad. Then he looked at the altar and realized his family was up there to bless the marriage. "Oh, yeah." He reluctantly removed his hand from beneath hers and joined his family. They all gave their blessing and a glowing globe briefly surrounded the happy couple.

Mrs. Weasley made him stay up there for the rest of the ceremony, so he no longer had the pleasant problem of trying to hold Hermione's hand. They met up again at the reception, once he finally freed himself from his mum. She was very clingy. Hermione was talking to Harry and had her back to Ron. He snuck up behind her and whispered, "May I have this dance?" in her ear. A slow song had just begun. He took her smile as a yes, and led her onto the dance floor. In the corner of his eyes, Ron saw Harry lead Ginny onto the floor as well. It had been the best day of Ron Weasley's life.

Harry awoke on the day of Fleur and Bill's wedding determined to enjoy this last day of fun to the fullest. He degnomed and helped decorate without complaint. He got ready early and decided to go ahead and get Hermione, Ron, and himself seats. Hermione met him a few minutes later.

"Hi, Harry. How are you?" Hermione inquired as she sat down.

"I'm great, actually. I figured brooding would ruin the mood of the day," he joked. "You look very nice, Hermione. Ron will be speechless."

"Really, you think so?" Hermione asked hopefully. Harry said, "Oh, I know so. He's mad about you and you know it."

"Yeah, last year we both kinda made it obvious, hmm?" Harry laughed, "That's an understatement."

"Well, I really made it obvious, anyway. I don't know what he was thinking with Lavender."

"Well, Ginny sorta let it slip that you had kissed Victor Drum and Ron lost it. She also teased him about never kissing a girl. I guess he just wanted to catch up," Harry explained.

"Victor was sweet and all, but it just never seemed right. Besides, I certainly did not kiss Victor the way Ron kissed Lavender, that's for certain. He not only caught up, he surpassed us both," she giggled. Harry was happy she could laugh about it.

"Harry, I was wondering if you could help me seat the rest of the guests." Harry looked around—everyone seemed to be seated. "It looks like everyone already-"He was cut off by Ginny grabbing his arm. She gave him a meaningful look. "Oh, I get it."

Now that the confusion was over, Harry could truly appreciate how lovely Ginny looked. Her hair cascaded down her back in ringlets and it shimmered in the sun. She wore a strapless, light gold dress made of satin. It fell just below her knees and a satin belt, which appeared to have no function, with a rhinestone-studded buckle at her waist. Her dress sandals were gold and made her as tall as Harry.

"You look amazing, Ginny," Harry said. "Isn't it wrong to upstage the bride?" he said with a wink.

"Don't, Harry. Don't flirt, it's too painful. Thank you, but don't. Save it up for later, okay?"

"Oh, okay. Sorry," Harry said sheepishly.

"It's alright. I know you can't resist me," she winked. "Well, I need to go—bridesmaid and all. Sit back here so they can have some privacy."

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. It looked like they were flirting. _About time, _he thought. The music started and once Ginny was walking down the aisle, she was all that Harry looked at. His heart swelled—this was what he was fighting for. He would win and be with Ginny again. Ron and Hermione will be together and we'll all be happy. The glow from the blessing distracted him for a second, but soon his gave found Ginny again. He was going to miss her, but she'd always be with him.

At the reception, Harry talked to Hermione while Molly henpecked her children. "Ron told me that he wanted to dance with me. I don't know if he actually will, though."

Harry saw Ron sneak up behind Hermione, but didn't let on. Her look of surprise convinced Harry that Ron had asked her to dance. He smiled as he watched Ron lead her onto the dance floor. Then his eyes searched for Ginny. They found her at the refreshment table. Harry took a deep breath and approached Ginny. "May I have this dance, Ginny?" She grinned and held out her arm. Harry glanced over at Ron and Hermione as he took Ginny into his arms. Ron held her close. He looked over Hermione's head and his eyes asked Harry a question. Harry nodded his approval.

Then, the refreshment table flew across the dance floor, pinning a few people under it where it landed. Curses began flying everywhere. Harry threw Ginny and himself to the ground as one came right at them. He reached for his wand and looked up. Standing where the table had been moments before were Death Eaters.

I read this idea in another fan fiction story (title and author escape me now) and I thought it was great. I do not take credit for it.

**A/N:** I know. I'm evil. I have the sixth and seventh chapters outlined and a little of chapter eight too. Hopefully, I'll have chapter six up in a couple of weeks. I can't guarantee this. I have a huge, career related exam on June 10th and start my summer class the Tuesday after that. Please R & R!


	6. Chapter 6: Pressure Point

**Disclaimer: **I don't own this world, Jo does. I just write what the plot-bunnies tell me to.

**Chapter Six**

**Pressure Point**

Draco ran from the restaurant as though he had just spotted the Snitch. Obviously, the Minister for Magic had contacted Muggle authorities about him. He burst into their room exclaiming, "Mother, we have to leave immediately! They have the Muggles looking for us and the barkeep knows!"

Narcissa simply sat on her bed. "Draco, do you honestly think that Severus didn't think of that? Switzerland is a neutral nation. We're safe here. Not even Swiss wizards will turn us over. Now, stop panicking about that; it's unbecoming. I really should stop using magic to make Muggle money, so you need to get a job."

"What, as a Muggle?" Draco was thoroughly disgusted, though relieved about Switzerland being neutral. "I don't know how to do anything the Muggle way!"

Narcissa sighed, "Yes, that would be a side effect of your father. You are wrong, however. You can pour a drink, can you not?"

"Of course I can! I'm not an imbecile!" Draco was truly irritated now; he wished she would just get to the point.

"You should work down in the bar. I'm sure what's-his-name will train you up in no time. We might even get free food out of it."

Draco was now certain his mother was completely daft. "Mum, Sven knows I'm wanted by Muggle police. He's not going to hire me. I doubt he'll even let us stay here."

"Draco, this place is riddled with criminals and he knows it. There is the occasional tourist that is all."

Draco still did not see the appeal in working. They were wizards, after all. "Mum, I don't want to work there! I'm a Malfoy! I-"

"Draco! It's your fault we are here in the first place! You had to go and follow in your father's footsteps! You weren't ready, were you? You are not Death Eater material and you never will be. Merlin, I hate your father for this," Narcissa said hung her head.

"Hate him for what? He gave you everything you ever wanted." Draco thought his mother had clearly lost her mind.

"For buying into the Dark Lord's ideas so wholly and taking us with him, particularly you. I've always supported the idea that purebloods were better, but I'm content just turn my nose up at non-purebloods. The main reason I even considered marrying your father, other than money, was that he and Rodolphus got along so well. It made my sister happy, you see. Now even she's madder than your father. At least he listened to me enough to pretend he was under the Imperius the first time; I pleaded ignorance and motherhood."

Draco had never known that his mother felt like this and he was disgusted with himself for idolizing his father after seeing the pain that it all had caused his mother.

"Draco, we have to drastically change the way we live until this blows over. It will probably take years, unless that Potter boy actually succeeds in defeating the Dark Lord. I highly doubt that, but one can hope, right?"

Draco hated to admit it, but he felt the same way. "I guess I'll go talk to Sven about a job. Maybe I'll like it." Draco doubted that he would enjoy living as a Muggle, but at least as a barkeep he would have plenty of opportunities to get pissed after work. Still, he almost envied Potter; at least he wasn't in a living hell.

* * *

"Ginny are you okay?" Harry blocked a spell as he waited for her to answer. "Ginny?"

"Yeah, Harry. I'm fine, for now. We have to get out of here."

Harry shook his head. "No, _you_ have to get out of here. Take Ron and Hermione with you. She can Apparate you to headquarters." Harry knew that his order probably would fall on deaf ears, but he had to try. Ginny flashed him a look that clearly said "Don't be daft."

They had moved rather quickly after the initial attack from their vulnerable position on the dance floor. They were now behind an oak tree. Ron and Hermione were visible several meters a way behind another tree. Lupin, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, McGonagall, Mr. Weasley, the twins, and just about all the other adults were fighting the Death Eaters. Some were faring better than others.

Harry knew it was only a matter of time before a Death Eater got past the Aurors and teachers, so he was attempting to form a plan of action. Every fiber of his body was standing on end. He could tell that Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were doing, and felt, the same.

Eventually, three Death Eaters broke through the front line. As they headed towards them, Harry thought of a time when Dudley and his buddies were bullying him. They had used the "clothesline" method. Harry had a plan that would at least give the element of surprise. He conjured a rope and tossed one end to Ron, hoping no Death Eater had noticed it. He chanced a glance around the tree; the Death Eaters were fighting Fleur, Tonks, and Bill. Harry couldn't find Moody. He tapped the rope to make it invisible and began tying his end around the tree. He felt it pull tight and knew Ron was doing the same on his end. He hoped that being knocked to their feet would give he and his friends time to Stun them and tie them up. Harry wanted to keep Ginny from any curses.

Unfortunately, she took that option away from him as she ran from their hiding place and began to taunt the Death Eaters.

"Ginny!"

Harry ran to join her, but fell short when he was hit with a curse and hit the ground with a sickening thud. He couldn't move and could only see the ground. He heard Ginny, Ron, and Hermione yelling counter curses and defensive spells.

Then, he heard several thuds and felt the ground vibrate briefly beneath him.

"Ennervate."

He could move again. "Ginny, are you alright?" he asked as he stood up, wand ready. Ron and Hermione had already stunned the three Death Eaters. It seemed like the fighting had ceased all around the Burrow. He was a little disappointed that he had been hiding or immobile for all of it. _I can only imagine what Hermione would say about _that.

"Are you okay, Harry?" inquired Hermione as Ron managed to fuss over her at the same time as looking concerned for him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you two?" They nodded. "We should go see how everyone else is and take care of any injured. Are those three secure for now?" he gestured toward the Death Eaters.

"They should be fine there until Moody or someone can take care of them," replied Hermione as she rubbed her ribs.

"I thought you said you were okay?" Harry asked, concerned.

"That would be my fault, mate," answered Ron looking abashed. Harry looked confused.

"I think my ribs were bruised when Ron threw me to the ground and crushed me under his weight on the dance floor," she explained, blushing.

"Oh, no."

"Ginny?" Harry walked over to where she had wandered. "What's wrong?" He followed her gaze to the ground. Moody lay there, eyes wide open and mouth agape. There was no other sign that anything was wrong—other than he wasn't breathing.

Harry felt the ground tilt and he grasped about to find his balance. Ginny caught his arm; he turned to her and opened his mouth, but forgot what he was going to say when he heard a woman screaming. It sounded very familiar and he had a weird sense of déjà vu as he ran toward the sound, except for his three friends following him.

He rounded the corner of the house and stopped at what he saw. Fleur was kneeling on the ground, her dress torn and stained with blood and grass. She clenched a man to her chest and continued to wail.

"Papa de! Revenu!"

Harry felt as though his stomach was in a vice. Ginny turned and vomited on the ground, splashing her feet. Harry held back her hair and rubbed her back. He was terrified to look anymore; he was afraid of who else's lifeless eyes would stare up at him.

Mr. Weasley was speaking in a low voice to Kingsley, his back to the four teenagers, "Unfortunately, there are more. Professors Sprout, Sinistra, Vector, and Madam Hooch did not survive. Fortunately, my daughter-in-law's mother Apparated away with Gabrielle—I can't imagine that she would have survived either. How did they get through the wards?" As he finished, he turned to find his two youngest children and their friends behind him.

"Children! Thank goodness you're all right. Where is Molly? She must be going mad with worry."

"I'll look for her!" exclaimed Ginny. Ron began to wander off, unnoticed by his father and sister.

"I will look for her, Ginny. She's okay. I would know if she wasn't. She's probably off somewhere looking for you or tending to the injured-"

"Ron!"

"Hermione, what's wrong?" asked Harry.

"His knees just buckled from under him," she said as she jogged up behind Ron, who was facing some bushes.

"Oh," she said as her eyes widened and her hand touched her heart.

Harry saw what she meant a few seconds later and tried to keep Ginny from the scene before them. There, between the bushes sat George with Fred cradled in his arms as Molly clung to Fred's legs and moaned as if her heart was screaming.

**A/N:** I'm sorry for all the death, but this is a war. This chapter took a long time to write. Even when just making notes and deciding who would live and who would die, I felt nauseous and had to take breaks. Some of these breaks lasted days as I got closer to writing the battle and the deaths.

I am in no way an expert in Switzerland's policies on international fugitives. I simply took the idea of it being a neutral nation and ran with it. I may be wrong, but that wouldn't help the story, so let's say I'm right.

Fleur translation (as by the translating feature on Word): **"Papa! Come back!"** I wish she spoke Spanish; at least I studied it.


	7. Chapter 7: ReckoningReveling

**A/N**: The title is from Ani Difranco's double album _Reckoning/Reveling_.

**Disclaimer: **The usual bowing down to Jo because I'm not as brilliant as her and I don't want to deal with lawyers—otherwise known as: _It's all hers._

"and who  
ever said that life is suffering  
i think they had their finger on the pulse of joy  
ain't the power of transcendence  
the greatest one we can employ" -Ani Difranco, "Shroud"

**Chapter Seven**

**Reckoning/Reveling**

"It's my fault."

Hermione looked up at George's statement. He had broken the silence that had hung over the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione ever since they had handed Fred over to the healers at St. Mungo's. He was alive, but they were not sure if he would ever wake up. Hermione looked at Ron; his freckles stood out on his paler than usual skin. Everyone was still in their wedding attire, giving them a sad beauty.

"It's no one's fault," said Charlie.

"He wouldn't be here if hadn't been protecting me—because I got bloody distracted and left myself open. Each of our attackers hit Fred with a different curse at the same time! He can't die! Where is that bloody Healer?" he asked as he looked around, looking lost.

Mrs. Weasley tried to console George and Hermione's eyes followed Ron as he abruptly left the group to the end of the hall. There, he paced, sat, and paced some more before Hermione joined him.

"Ron?" she asked in a voice that she hoped told him he could talk to her.

Ron didn't say anything, but instead looked at her with eyes that broke her heart. She did not have any siblings herself, but the look in his eyes communicated so much pain that she got an inkling of what it would be like to almost lose one of them. He sat down once more and hung his head. Figuring that he wanted to be alone, she turned to rejoin the other Weasleys and Harry.

She had only taken a couple of steps when she heard a patting sound. She turned back towards Ron; he was patting the seat next to him in a heartbeat rhythm. She sat next to Ron in comfortable silence, but after a while she felt she needed to do more—maybe he was waiting for her to speak. She reached out for his hand and rested hers there. She chanced a glance at him and saw a slight smile at the corner of his mouth that was quickly replaced by a look of guilt.

"Mum! Dad!"

Hermione turned away from Ron to see Bill running towards his family.

"I came as soon as I could. I just couldn't leave Fleur alone, so I waited until she was with her mother and sister before coming. She insisted on my not waiting, but how could I not?" he finished as his voice shook.

Mrs. Weasley began to comfort Bill as Harry rose to offer the distraught newlywed his seat. Ginny took over comforting George.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"As soon as we know that Fred is going to be okay, let's go to your parents' house. I don't…I don't want…Fleur, she…"

"I understand, Ron. You don't have to say anything else."

Except for the occasional sound of weeping and updates from the Healer, the group sat in silence until midnight. It was then that Ron's stomach broke the silence. Mrs. Weasley was the first to laugh, which gave them all permission to laugh. None of them had eaten since the reception or before even that.

After they had all eaten some snacks that Harry and Hermione had retrieved from the tea room at the hospital, everyone settled into low conversations. Well, except Ron and Hermione. Ron had moved a little closer to his family, but was still quiet. Hermione had had enough.

"Ron, why are you so quiet?" she whispered, sounding harsh without meaning to. He was just so exasperating.

"Why do you think? My brother is hanging somewhere between life and death and there's nothing I can do," replied Ron somberly and with no lack of bitterness.

"That's not what I meant. Why won't you at least talk to me about it? You can, you know—or was all that talk about being able to be yourself around me just rubbish?"

"What? No, of course not. I just can't talk about it now, okay? I have to sort it out in my head first."

"So, you'll talk to me about it eventually? You don't have to, but if you want-"

"Maybe by the time we go to your parents, I'll have sorted it all out," Ron whispered as he took Hermione's hand in his once more.

"Okay," she replied, stroking his hand with her thumb. He took a shaky breath at her movement.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?"

"Yes, Healer O'Conner?" asked Mrs. Weasley like the next thing that the healer said could possibly break her.

"Fred has suffered severe injuries. We believe he was hit with a Cruciatus curse and a Body-Bind Curse at the same time. Because he was unable to move while experiencing the pain of the Cruciatus curse, his body and mind went into shock. The coma is his body's way of protecting itself. Normally, movement by the victim in the duration of the Cruciatus prevents this, especially if the duration is abbreviated as it was in Fred's case."

Mrs. Weasley let out a sob as Mr. Weasley moved to support her. He turned to the Healer, "What does that mean? Is he going to be okay?"

"There is a 60 chance that Fred will recover and regain full use of his mind and body. The fact that his attack was not that long contributed to these good odds. If we see at least reflexive movement within the next week, his chances will increase to 80 for a full recovery. Now that we are finished assessing his condition, you may visit him in pairs. I am sure that hearing his family talk to him will speed up his recovery. If you have any questions, I will be here until 5 am. After that, you can ask for Healer Flannery."

The Healer noticed that Mrs. Weasley was slightly less tense, but tense nonetheless, and added, "Looking at Fred's family, I have no doubt he'll pull through. Now, who wants to see Fred first?"

Ron was so relieved that his brother was more than likely going to be okay that he almost forgot why he had been so silent. When he saw Fred it all came rushing back and so did the guilt. When he had found George, Fred, and his mother after the attack, he had been sure that his brother was dead. When they found out that he wasn't and the shock wore off, he began having thoughts that troubled him. He began thinking that if his family didn't know Harry that none of this would have happened. He knew better than to think that it was actually true, but he thought it anyway, which filled him with enormous guilt. When he had separated from his family while they were waiting, he was actually getting away from Harry. He felt that Harry would probably be able to tell what he was thinking. After all, what he was thinking was probably the same thing Harry was thinking.

Fred was so pale and still. Ron didn't think he had ever seen his brother be so still, not even when sleeping. Ginny brushed the hair off of Fred's face and held back a sob. He and Ginny had come in after Mr. Weasley and Charlie had visited; Bill and George would follow and then Harry and Hermione.

"Ron, do you really think he'll be okay?" Ginny asked.

Ron considered her question for a moment. The Healer had certainly been optimistic, but a forty percent chance of _no_ recovery was a lot. He wasn't sure what he thought, so he decided to tell Ginny what she wanted to hear.

"Fred's strong, Ginny. I'm positive that he'll pull through. He's a Weasley, isn't he?"

"You're right." She began stroking Fred's face as she said, "Did you hear that big brother? You're going to be all right. You have to be. When you wake up you have to knock some sense into George." She took a long shuddering breath as her body was racked with sobs yet again that day. Ron enfolded her in his arms as his own eyes filled with tears.

After everyone had visited Fred, Mrs. Weasley insisted that everyone go to Grimmauld Place to sleep and then they would come back in the morning. George refused to leave; a Healer was kind enough to set up a cot for George to sleep on next to Fred. Ron doubted he would actually sleep; he doubted any of them would.

"Ron?"

Ron rolled over in his bed in Grimmauld Place, "Five more minutes." Then he remembered what all had happened and he was wide awake. He looked over at the bed next to his; Harry was still asleep. Who had called his name? He looked to the doorway and found Hermione standing there looking like she hadn't been up that long.

"Ron, your mother told me to get you up. Percy's here."

"He's what? Percy? What does that traitorous wanker want?"

"I don't now. I just know he's here. He heard about Fred from your dad and your dad brought him here."

"How do we know he won't go back to the Minister about this place!" exclaimed Harry from the other bed as he fumbled for his glasses.

"I don't think he would even if he could. Remember? No one but the Secret Keeper can tell anyone the location of that place. McGonagall is the Secret Keeper now since Dumbledore died and you said it could continue to be headquarters for the Order. I guess she gave Mr. Weasley a piece of paper to show Percy."

"Well, the git won't be able to talk anyway after I kill him," Ron said as he ground his right fist into his left palm.

"Ron! Just listen to what he has to say first, okay? Maybe he's come around finally. I'm not too fond of him right now either, but he's your brother. He's here because Fred is hurt, not to have you seek revenge from his past trespasses."

"Hermione's right, Ron. Let's just go see what he has to say before you settle any vendettas, okay? Besides, your lack of action will make him squirm. That could be fun, right?"

"Harry!" Hermione admonished.

"You're right, Harry. This could be a lot of fun," Ron said as he rubbed his hands together. He was the first out the door.

**A/N: **You didn't honestly think I could kill off a Weasley, did you? Well, I didn't put as much in this chapter as I had originally outlined. This just seemed like a good place to end and it ends on kind of a happy note, unlike the last chapter. Sorry about that one, by the way. This story just keeps getting longer and longer chapter-wise because I try to keep the tones of the chapters cohesive. Anyway, please Read and Review!


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